


pillow talk

by linnhe



Category: SHINee
Genre: Cozy, Hand Jobs, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Other, Self-Indulgent, it's Taemin giving himself a handjob, soft, that's the whole fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22925341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linnhe/pseuds/linnhe
Summary: remember when i used to write soft shit? me neither.this was posted over on lj originally, someone gave it a like today (bc lj has likes now??) so i reread and deemed it cute enough to exist on this platform.whoever has steadily been going through my old stuff and giving likes: i see u, i appreciate u 💕✊🥺if there's a scenario you'd like to see me write, comeyell at me on twit
Relationships: Lee Taemin/Lee Taemin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	pillow talk

  
he’s tangled up in his sheets, blinking blearily at the ceiling. the room is already stifling hot, even though the morning sun is only just setting the walls and closet ablaze. he needs a drink of water, or a cold shower, before he hopelessly overheats and makes himself nauseous. but unlike most mornings, he woke up feeling comfy. not plain comfy, mind you. _utterly_ comfy.

the kind of comfy he’s always aiming to achieve when he’s fluffing up his pillow again and again, rolling from one side to the other. the kind of comfy that only happens once in a blue moon. the kind of comfy that has to be _bestowed_ upon a person.

for once, the blanket is exactly the right weight against his skin, enveloping him in a delicate but flawless blanket-hug. his one uncovered foot is cold nor warm, and the mattress is supporting him wholly. not a single inch of his skin is itchy. it feels like he has muscles, nor bones.

he has ascended. he is human jelly.

he’s not giving this up.

sighing, he closes his eyes again. as long as he doesn’t move, he can bear the too-warm cocoon of his blankets at least an hour longer.

jonghyun gets up first, groaning in weak protest as he shleps out of the room. taemin hears the shower starting up not long after.

his erection – which he took notice of when he woke up, but also immediately disregarded, because he doesn’t jack off when jonghyun is in the room (except for that one time, but that was an honest mistake so he’d really appreciate it if his brain would stop reminding him) – moves against his stomach at the sound of the water.

pavlov. he supposes that’s what he gets for looking after himself in the shower all the time. but it’s not like he has a lot of choice in the matter; he’s around other human beings nearly every minute of every day. he sighs again, trying to will it away. he feels too nice to move.

his brain decides this is the ideal time to chip in with a suggestion of its own, bringing up one of the fantasies he’s been particularly attracted to lately; warm lips sliding over the head of his erection, a tongue tracing him, licking him with long, slow movements. he frowns when his dick jerks again, brushing against the sheets.

“stop it, you little piece of shit,” he murmurs at it.

he is, in fact, small. but, he’s fond of himself. his hands are small too, so it works out, in his opinion. he fits in his palm like corn in its silk; he can hold himself nearly wholly, and that’s what feels nicest. his favourite thing, recently, has been to get his hand all slippery with soap, and pretend it’s a mouth, and–

he shouldn’t be thinking about this. jonghyun rarely showers long, which means his window of opportunity is already narrowing.

taemin’s eyes open, observing the sunny ceiling.

maybe if he’s quick about it.

he brings up his hand, groaning when the spell of perfect comfort is broken. his hand tastes salty against his tongue, and licking it is unpleasant, since he’s low on spit.

“the things i do for you,” he mutters into the sheets, in the direction of his crotch, a little peeved. then he closes his palm around himself, and his next intake of breath is much sharper than the ones that came before. he lies back his head, taking another deep breath as he speeds up his hand, wetting his lips without conscious thought.

masturbating is helping him forget about the gentle, relaxed state he'd been enjoying. the pleasure is different now, rippling through him in short bursts. it’s a much more insistent type of gentleness, not allowing any of his limbs to remain still, his uncovered foot sliding into the burrow of his blanket as he arches and twists, his breaths becoming shallower and more clipped the longer he moves his hand.

“ah… ah–”

he’s carefully quiet. no one besides someone in the room could pick up on his sounds. even when a thin layer of sweat starts slicking down the hairs framing his temples, even when a blush colours the apples of his cheeks, even when he bites his bottom lip hard enough for it to twinge in pain, his sounds remain small and breathless. he doesn’t want his little escapade met by jeers at breakfast; he wants these waves of pleasure to remain all his own, to relish, to think back on later in the day, when he’s inevitably confronted with an image that turns him on.

he feels his body working, pushing him closer, and his eyebrows knit together as he allows his consciousness to sink into the well of pleasure, letting himself be filled from edge to edge, until all of him is lost in the haze, and he stutters out his loudest noise so far.

“ _ah!_ ”

his arm slumps next to his torso, over-tired, his sleepy morning muscles having been worked too hard in pursuit of orgasm. his chest and stomach heave, both covered in come, already being picked up by the blanket every time it brushes against him.

 _gross_ , he thinks, but doesn’t make an immediate attempt to move. the satisfaction is bone deep, gorgeous, and for a few moments, it doesn’t matter that the temperature has risen to beyond what’s pleasant. then he sighs and smiles, eyes slipping shut as he kicks the covers off the bed.

he lifts his arms above his head, groaning with a wide grin in place, allowing the sun to cover all of him. he feels happy. he feels alive.

**Author's Note:**

> remember when i used to write soft shit? me neither. [this was posted over on lj originally](https://linnhe.livejournal.com/28881.html), someone gave it a like today (bc lj has likes now??) so i reread and deemed it cute enough to exist on this platform.
> 
> whoever has steadily been going through my old stuff and giving likes: i see u, i appreciate u 💕✊🥺
> 
> if there's a scenario you'd like to see me write, come [yell at me on twit](https://twitter.com/linnhuh/status/1223134823478226944?s=20)


End file.
